


1:27

by asaprockme



Series: I Will Always Love You [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Drabble, M/M, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-28
Updated: 2014-10-28
Packaged: 2018-02-22 22:58:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2524820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asaprockme/pseuds/asaprockme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's 1:27 and I fucking miss you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1:27

**Author's Note:**

> Harry's POV
> 
> (would be better if you read 1:25 first) :)

I loved him, I did. I loved his blond hair and his crystal clear eyes. Loved the way my insides tingled the first time he held my hand. I loved to listen to his heartbeat on a lazy day, my head resting in his chest, his feet planted on top of the coffee table. But most of all, I loved  _him_.

And at first we were amazing. Couldn't get enough of each other, everyone saw it, too. Our friends and family would coo at us, tell us how in love we looked, tell us how perfect we were made for each other. And at first I believed it. It was pretty hard not to.

And I loved him. I loved him so much that I looked forward to waking up each morning because I knew he'd be right there by my side when I did. I loved him so much that it felt like my heart would literally break in two from loving him so much. I loved him to the point where I couldn't love him enough. I couldn't love him anymore.

And sooner than later, before we knew it, it was too much. The love was too much. Soon enough it was like it was becoming a job for me to love him. Soon enough the love seemed to let itself go.

At first there was less contact. Less touching, less hugging, less kissing. I could see it in his blue eyes—the desperate pleading, the want, the  _need—_ in his irises; I could tell that what he wanted from me, I wasn't giving him enough of. But something inside of me was telling me that I couldn't give him what he craved, I was slowly drifting away.

And soon enough, there was less and less of  _us_. Less  _'how was your day?'_  when we came home from work, less good morning's and goodnight's, less  _I love you's_.

If someone were to ask me why, why all of this was happening so sudden, I don't think I'd be able to answer that. Because, truthfully, we were only drifting apart.

And before I knew it, before I could even prepare myself, there was the " _I don't think this is going to work out anymore,_ " falling from my lips, and the " _maybe we weren't meant to be,_ " and the thick tears running down his face, the grabby hands and the  _please, please don't go_ 's, the  _tell me what I did wrong_ 's, " _I can fix this, please_."

But then weeks went by, and after hundreds of texts and multiple calls, there was the packing of bags and longing looks, the silent cries from the blond boy and more tears running down his crystal clear eyes.

And I loved him, I did. I loved him through all the laughs and cuddles, through all the arguments and silent treatments. Through all the hugs and kisses and hours and hours we spent just holding hands, just being near each other. And I loved him through all the long talks about nothing and anything we had. And I loved him, I did.

I loved him before the last goodbye, the last  _"I love you,"_  the last time I saw him before I walked away and never looked back.

And maybe I love him now. Maybe I still love him four months later. Maybe I still love him at 1:26 in the morning staring up at the ceiling above me.

Maybe it's 1:26 in the morning and I'm still awake even though I have to be up for work in a few hours. But maybe I don't care, maybe it's 1:26 and I'm dialing his number right now with trembling fingers and shaky breaths.

And maybe it's 1:26 in the morning and I'm placing my phone against my ear. Maybe it rings until the last second possible and I almost hang up. But I don't and I have no fucking idea what I'm actually doing, but when I finally hear his voice again after going four months without it, it's like I knew all along.

And maybe it's 1:27 AM now and I'm telling him how much I miss him. I can't stop. I miss him a lot.

It's 1:27 and "I fucking miss you, Niall. I really do."

**Author's Note:**

> not sure how this went but i hope you guys liked it!


End file.
